Flames & Shadows
by Shadow of the Apprentice
Summary: Jenny. The memory of his sister still burns painfully in Jackson's mind. Exactly seven years later, on his friend's 18th birthday, he prepares to set out on his Pokemon journey. But what will happen when someone unexpected joins the party? This is their story. A story of friendship. A story of mystery. A story of self-discovery, revenge, love, and fear-conquering.
1. Chapter 1

"Jackson, no! Don't do it! Go back! _Goooo!_"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere. And everywhere. It echoed all around, clearly heard through the raging winds and crumbing atmosphere. The house wouldn't be able to take much more before it collapsed into a burning heap of rubble. But still the boy pursued the voice. The only familiar sound amidst all the deafening chaos. A voice heard clearly not only by the ears, but by the heart and soul as well. A voice so painfully close and so devastatingly far away.

"Jackson just _run!_ You can still make it! _Save yourself!_"

The voice of his sister.

"_Ge-he-he-hee!"_

The shrill laugh of a ghost Pokemon crept its way into the boy's ears, sneaking through the broken windows, between the splintered rafters, like a shadow surging forward towards the light. Not at all scared of the thing by which it's birthed. Never retreating. Never ending. Evil arrogance giving it the power of a thousand gods; the ability to wreak havoc and despair upon any and all, for no other reason than sick, sinister pleasure.

"_Gehgarrr,"_ the beast whispered, its powerful breath ripping through the air. Another light exploded, sending shards of glass like pin missiles across the room. Jenny screamed.

Jackson steeled himself, grimacing through the heat and the pain as he got to his feet. Hot sweat dripped down his forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. Now both arms were stained red. He spat out more blood.

Fire roared all around him, rising up through the void it left behind. The only thing left of their childhood home, collapsing by the second. Sturdy bricks crumbling like ancient clay. Metal popping, wood crackling. Memories fading along with the house. Memories of a peaceful life in a loving home.

Memories being destroyed through the power of dynamax.

* * *

"Hey, look alive, bud! Catherine'll be here any moment!"

Picasso grinned, slapping Jackson on the back. Jackson was surprised the blow didn't shatter one of his vertebrae. The jolly lad was stronger than he realized, and still threw his weight around like he did in middle school, when he was about the same size as all the other kids. Only now Picasso was a head taller than Jackson and outweighed him by nearly fifty pounds.

"I'm _so_ ready for today," Picasso declared, pumping his fist emphatically. "And it's not even _my _birthday!" He shook his head in wonder, then resumed his subconscious pacing, bouncing eagerly as he tried to contain his excitement.

It was going to be an awesome day, Jackson had to admit. He and Picasso were lounging at Panorama Park, waiting for their friend Catherine to meet up with them. It was her birthday today, and the two boys had pooled some money together to buy a fresh, homemade birthday cake from the local bakery. The sweet Moomoo milk and rich Swanna eggs had left the boys drooling when they visited the shop a week ago, and now that they picked up their own cake they were dying to dig into the fluffy, honeyed dessert.

The cherry on top of the cake, though, would be the expedition afterwards. A couple of years ago, the three friends had promised one another that, once they all turned eighteen, they would venture out together to take on the Kleidos gym challenge. Catherine, being the youngest of the group by just a couple of months, was finally turning eighteen today. It was a long-awaited couple of months for all three friends, but today they would finally be able to fulfill their promise.

But why did it have to be _this _day?

The anniversary of his sister's disappearance?

"Hey, Jackson, I think I see her!" Picasso's sudden exclamation snapped Jackson out of his reverie. Looking up, he saw their friend weaving her way through the playground equipment. She smiled when she caught sight of the two boys, no small thanks to Picasso's eager waving. Jackson and Picasso were smiling, too; until they noticed the figure following Catherine.

"Hey guys!" Catherine said as she reached the cluster of stumps they were using as a makeshift bench. "Sorry if you've been waiting long. Maxie couldn't get away from history class until just now. You remember how tetchy Professor Darnold can get." She shrugged.

Max was looking sideways at the ground, seeming a little uncomfortable. "I ended up just walking out," she said, slipping her hands in her pockets. "It's a shame I had to leave my books behind, though. But I needed both hands free to give the old troll the double bird." She dared a glance upward, grinning mischievously.

Maxine was Catherine's sister, younger by about two years. She was generally a quiet girl, from what Jackson knew of her, but she gave off a punk vibe that was somewhat unsettling at times. Jackson had no reason to dislike the girl, but he and Picasso were eager to set out on their quest and didn't want to waste any time entertaining an extra guest.

Picasso tilted his head concernedly. "What are you going to do tomorrow, then? You'd better have a good apology story ready, or you're really gonna get it at school."

Now it was Catherine's turn to look a bit fidgety. "You guys brought a cake!" she said, trying to change the subject. "It looks incredible! You didn't have to-"

"What do you mean 'what am I going to do tomorrow?' Max queried. We'll be long gone by then."

"So can we dig in?" Catherine continued hurriedly, her face turning a hot shade of red. "I, for one, am absolutely starving!"

An awkward pause drew on for a moment, Max looking around confusedly while Jackson and Picasso stared pointedly at Catherine, realization dawning upon them. Catherine wriggled her hands behind her back, looking down guiltily.

Jackson was the first to break the silence. "Umm… Cat?" She tilted her head up a bit, still not making eye contact. Jackson looked from sister to sister, trying not to let his weariness show. "'_We_?'" Catherine tapped her foot on the ground behind her for a second before Picasso jumped in.

"Hey," he said, coughing awkwardly. "We got a cake! Happy birthday, Cat!"

* * *

The four kids finished off the tasty cake in no time at all, licking frosting from their fingers in satisfied content. Picasso, having eaten his share and some of Maxine's leftovers, leaned back with a groan.

"Now that was a good cake," he stated. "I won't have to eat again for days."

"It was incredible, thanks you two," Catherine agreed, cupping the last of the crumbs and tossing them into her mouth. "And don't worry too much about not eating; we'll have to be pretty stingy if we're going to make it far in our journey." Another uncomfortable lapse in conversation fell upon the group.

"So about our journey…" Jackson prompted after a bit.

Catherine sighed. "Okay, okay. I told Maxie about our plans to go off on our own. Don't get the wrong impression—she didn't beg me to come with. I told her she should join us, think about starting a Pokemon journey of her own. I didn't want to just up and leave her, you know? She's my sister… and besides, you guys know as well as I do that this town isn't much fun alone."

Jackson, thinking back to his own sad past, had to admit she had a point.

When he was old enough to start studying at the Central Kleidos Academy, Jackson was unceremoniously dismissed from his foster home and sent to Central City. He was fourteen at the time, the age when most aspiring trainers began their studies. Not knowing a thing about the city and without a friend in the world, he took up a quiet life in the shadows of the school. He wasn't a bad student, but he was careful to maintain a mediocre set of grades so he wouldn't garner any unwanted attention, good or bad.

Outside of classes, Jackson spent nearly all of his time in his one-bedroom dormitory. For the first year of school he hardly did anything to pass the time, simply sitting around and thinking about his miserable life and his long-lost family. He hated Pokemon—hated them for their unnatural abilities; their uncontrollable power; their simple-minded desire to _win_.

He hated them for what they did to his family.

Jackson had been living this way for the entire first year of classes, digging himself deeper and deeper into a pit of hate and depression. To this day he couldn't really say how he ever got out of that wretched state of mind. All he knew was that Picasso had something to do with it.

Picasso transferred to the Academy at the start of Jackson's second year. He was too loud and too friendly right off the bat, which caused a lot of the other students to avoid him. Jackson, who avoided all the other students, made no exception for the bubbly new transfer student. Picasso was inevitably cast out to the shadows of the school, where his uplifting personality intruded upon Jackson's quiet turmoil of life.

If Picasso was seen as an outcast by most of the other students, he certainly didn't notice it himself. He found the time spent with Jackson to be the start of a new friendship—and he was right. Jackson couldn't help being influenced by the other boy's contrasting personality. It reminded him of himself, back when he lived a happier life with his own friends. And family.

Jenny.

By the end of their second year of school the two boys had become great friends, and Cat joined their small circle of misfits that summer. Jackson was finally comfortable leaving his small dorm room and exploring the city with his newly-met friends. They soon found, though, that they preferred hanging out at their own apartments than anywhere in public. The popular hangout areas were always filled with pretentious schoolboys and annoyingly flirty girls. The fun of the movies and the amusement park were always drained away by these displeasing characters.

At the right time of day, Panorama Park could be a refreshing getaway from the bustling life in the city. For instance now, when most kids were still in classes, the park was nearly empty. It was a great place to sit around and talk about new movies, weird food, and plans for the future. Plans that currently seemed to be moving away from the original one.

But, again, Jackson had to admit that Cat was right. He couldn't imagine leaving his sister behind to start up a brand new journey. He didn't need to imagine it, really.

"Alright, Cat," he said, glancing over at Picasso, who nodded his approval. "You've got a point. You can tag along if you want, Maxine, but don't complain if this journey isn't the adventure you expected." He looked over at the younger girl and shrugged. "You know you can't compete in the Kleidos gym challenge yet, but I guess you can still get some experience watching us go through the battles."

Maxine continued to look disinterested, but Jackson thought he could see a hint of a smile working up the corners of her mouth. For some reason he couldn't help but feel happy that she was excited to travel with them.

Picasso's amused snort interrupted his thoughts. Jackson whipped his head around to look up at his bigger friend. "What?" he said, perhaps a touch too defensively. Picasso's snorts escalated into a restrained chuckle.

"Sorry," he said, regaining his composure. "It's just that you seem so confident things are going to go well. Like you think anyone could gain experience from watching _us_ battle. Ha!"

Catherine smiled and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Picasso, we aren't going to be _that_ bad, are we? I mean, at least one of us ought to do well enough to beat a couple of the gym leaders. We pretty much get three chances at each one of the gyms; the odds are in our favor!"

"You're absolutely right, Cat," Jackson said slamming his hands down on the wooden picnic bench. "And to give you guys a better chance, _I'll_ be the first one to battle a gym leader. Maybe you two can learn something from me, too!" He glanced sideways at Max, inwardly hoping to get a full smile out of the girl. He didn't let his disappointment show when she looked away.

Catherine abruptly stood up and grabbed her backpack. "Well then," she said, grabbing her sister's hand and pulling her up from the picnic table. "If we really want to see which one of us can beat a gym leader, we first have to get registered and then catch some Pokemon." She turned and took off at a brisk jog, dragging Maxine across the park toward the road which would lead them out of Central City. "Come on, guys! Clean up that mess and let's get moving!"

In one fluid motion, Picasso swept together all of the garbage from the table and hurled it toward the trash can, grinning. "Come on, buddy!" he said, grabbing his own pack and taking off after the two girls. "Our journey starts now!"

Jackson rolled his eyes as he gathered the loose garbage from around the bin and dropped it inside. He couldn't help but smile. He felt happier than he could ever remember. A new adventure awaited him. New Pokemon awaited him. Gym leaders and the Pokemon league awaited him.

And his friends were waiting for him. The best friends he could have asked for to start out this new chapter of his life.

"Come on, Jackson!" Picasso bellowed over his shoulder.

"Hurry up!" Catherine added from across the park.

Jackson adjusted the pack on his shoulders and jogged after his friends. Maxine turned to look back, and Jackson could have sworn she was looking at him before quickly turning forward again. Something fluttered in his stomach.

This journey was going to be the greatest adventure of their lives.

Or so they thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm gonna say this here and say it now, and I'll probably get one of two responses about it. So… Here it is… **

***deep breath***

**I always thought that the ball drop on New Year's Eve was a literal crystal ball dropping on the literal concrete floor in literal Times Square where it would literally shatter and make people's dreams come true.**

***awaiting responses***

"**What do you mean, Shadow? That's exactly how it goes down!"**

"**Shadow, you idiot, all that happens is a glass ball moves slightly down a metal pole. The end."**

**I'm curious to see what the rest of the world thinks. Am I actually going crazy or is this **_**actually**_** what happens? (It's okay to say yes to both choices, but you'll need written consent from your local psychologist)**

**Sorry for the ramble; here's chapter two!**

* * *

"Come on you two!" Jackson called back exasperatedly. "At this rate we'll be too old to do the gym challenge by the time we even get to one!"

_And I thought Picasso was the athletic one of the bunch…_ Jackson thought as he looked back to where the tall boy was lagging behind with Catherine. His two friends were chattering amiably, Picasso throwing around exaggerated hand gestures as he told Cat some apparently funny story. She was shaking her head indifferently, but Jackson could tell she was struggling to restrain her laughter.

The pairing left Jackson alone with Maxine. _Max_, as he was instructed to call her. The two of them hadn't spoken much beyond that. The younger girl's presence made him nervous for some reason. He wouldn't be surprised if she was feeling the same way about him.

Jackson sighed. He wished his friends would hurry and catch up with them already. The silence was killing him. He looked over at Max, who was by now trailing a few paces behind him. He figured Cat's sister just didn't feel like talking to him. Or maybe he was just walking too fast, eager to get to Shiner's Town and officially begin their Pokemon journey.

Like many regions, Kleidos offered a variety of starter Pokemon for young trainers to partner with when they began their journeys. However, these professors only granted Pokemon to students who had graduated from the Central Kleidos Academy. Their graduation certificates also doubled as their Kleidos League Registration ID, or KRID card, for short.

Trainers could still get their KRID cards without graduating from the Academy, but Central City itself didn't provide them to students without a diploma. There was no place to buy pokeballs in the city, either, unless you were registered in the system. It was Central City's way of "promoting education through positive feedback," or something stupid like that. Jackson scoffed at the obviously economic incentive.

The group of friends decided that they didn't want to wait another half a year to graduate. They wanted to start their journey as soon as possible to get a solid head start on this year's batch of new trainers. A lot of kids did this—headed out on their own after their 18th birthday. In fact, it was generally only the more elite and prestigious students who stuck through the Academy.

Something cold and mucky splattered against the back of his arm. Jackson turned around just in time to duck as a second clump of dirt came flying his way. He dodged to the side as Picasso came barreling towards him, his hands stained with bits of soil.

The bigger boy stumbled as he missed his target, skidding to a halt. "Maybe," he panted, "if you weren't going so doggedly fast," he paused to wipe the loose dirt from his hands. "We could have caught up with you," he finished, his breathing returning to normal.

Clearly this rag-tag group of friends was neither prestigious nor elite.

"There's really no hurry," Catherine pointed out, catching up with the rest of the group. "We've pretty much got our whole lives ahead of us after all."

"That is if we don't keel over out of exhaustion first." Jackson was surprised to hear the words come from Max's mouth. She hadn't spoken up for quite some time. He looked over to see her smiling and rubbing her sister's back teasingly.

Jackson grinned. "Hey, that'd be less competition for me in the gym challenge," he jested. Catherine punched him softly in the arm.

"So you think we're competition, eh? Thank you for the compliment," she said, her eyes bright with humor.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "I just want to get to Shiner's Town so we can buy some pokeballs," he said. "Every day without them we risk missing out on some rare Pokemon."

"You mean like that Raikou over there?" Picasso exclaimed loudly, pointed over Jackson's head. Jackson rolled his eyes again.

"You jest, buddy, but we'd be in some serious trouble if there really was a legendary Pokemon out here. We're not exactly prepared for travelling alone right now."

"Wha'r' you talkin' 'bout?" Catherine said with her mouth full. She and Max were sitting on the ground now, munching on some sort of trail mix. "We have food, water, clothes, and tents. How much more prepared could we be?"

Jackson sighed and sat down beside the two girls, holding out his hand for some of the trail mix. "It'd just be nice if we had our own Pokemon by now, that's all."

Picasso was still standing, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun as he looked down the road from where they came. A rumbling noise sounded in the distance, and a small cloud of dust seemed to grow larger as it approached the group. He gestured over his shoulder as he plopped down with the rest of the kids.

"A car would be nice, too," he remarked wistfully. "We totally could have rented one to take to Shiner's Town. You said it yourself, Jackson," he continued, snatching the bag of trail mix and pouring some into his mouth, "we're pretty much wasting our time until we have pokeballs to use."

"And how much money do you have lying around to rent a vehicle, Picasso?" Catherine countered, grabbing back the bag of snacks.

"I guess I don't know," Picasso admitted a little too easily. "But I'm sure that two helpless young girls could have begged the kind salesman to give them a discount." His voice changed to a playful falsetto and he folded his hands up near his chin, blinking bashfully. "We just really, _really_ need to get to Shiner's Town. And the path is dangerous, especially at night. Who knows what would become of two sweet girls unless the big kind man lets us borrow a car to drive. Won't you, please?" he finished, leaning over with fake puppy dog eyes. Catherine shoved him hard, causing the sturdy boy to topple over onto his side. Max giggled.

Jackson helped his friend sit back up and brushed loose dirt and grass from his shirt. By now the distant engine roar was louder, and the vehicle appeared to be slowing down. Jackson and Picasso stood up and moved protectively between the two girls and the road.

Before the car was even upon them, Jackson stifled a groan. He knew the type: fancy convertible, preppy "cool" kids.

Bullies.

"Great." Jackson slid his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet. Beside him Picasso crossed his arms and widened his stance. The car slowed to a crawl as it approached them, engine revving and roaring. It was a yellow-gold convertible with a tail fin that was too big to even look good. The rims were chrome stars that kept spinning even when the car stopped.

"Ayye looky here, fellas. It's 'Casso and crew." The rich boy behind the wheel lowered his sunglasses as he inspected the group alongside the road. Two girls wearing skimpy tops and huge earrings in the backseat giggled. A second prep boy in the passenger seat leaned over to get a better view.

"Did you losers finally decide to drop out of school?" All four kids in the expensive car laughed out loud. Picasso, who was normally good-natured, looked like he wanted to pick it up and flip it. And he probably could, too, with his animalistic strength.

By now the two girls had gotten to their feet as well, with one standing at either boys' side. Jackson almost flinched when Max brushed up beside him, but he didn't let his tenseness show.

"Really, man, what are you doing all the way out here?" Shades asked. It upset Jackson that the arrogant bullies directed all of their comments to Picasso. Like he was the ringleader of their little group or something. "And who's the little spice girl with you, huh?" Max's unenthused eyes narrowed further at the comment. "Didya finally scare off all the cuties in your own class, 'Casso?" Shades and his cronies burst into another fit of laughter.

Jackson could feel Max tensing up beside him. Then, in an instant, she relaxed completely and strolled casually up to the car. Shades nodded and took his glasses off as if he was expecting a greeting. Max walked right past him and leaned coolly on the door to the backseat. She motioned for the two girls to lean in and whispered something to them. Jackson, still on edge about the younger girl getting so close to the group of bullies, couldn't make out what she was saying over the purr of the engine.

Whatever it was, it made the two prep girls giggle shrilly. A few seconds later Max took something from them and the sports car roared off, kicking up a cloud of dust that spread out over the group of friends.

Catherine sputtered as the dust settled over her. She tried waving her hand in front of her face to clear the air. Max walked away from the road and rejoined the others. Jackson was still puzzled over what the quiet girl had said to the bullies to make them drive off, but Picasso beat him to the punch.

"What the heck did you do there?" he asked Max, clearly impressed by how she handled the situation. "I mean," he cleared his throat, "I could have taken care of them myself if it came down to it, but—"

"Here," Max said, holding out a torn piece of paper to the tall boy. He took it, face twisted in confusion. Jackson leaned over, trying to see what it was for himself. As Picasso unfolded the small note, he saw two rows of numbers scrawled across the paper. Phone numbers, or so they appeared.

"Those girls don't like those pretentious airheads any more than you do," she commented nonchalantly. Both boys looked from the scrap of paper to the younger girl and back again. "You're welcome," Max prompted, rolling her eyes. She strode down to where the group had left their bags. "Come on," she continued, grabbing her pack, "we should keep moving if we're ever going to make it to Shiner's Town on foot."

Jackson stared, open-mouthed, as Catherine's mysterious younger sister walked away. He didn't look over at Picasso but imagined that his friend was wearing a similar expression.

Catherine walked up behind them and held out their packs. "You'll get to know her soon enough, don't worry." As the boys slowly reached for their things, Catherine snatched the note from Picasso's hand. "I'm sure you won't be needing this," she remarked, pocketing the phone numbers. She hurried off after her sister.

Jackson and Picasso looked at each other for a moment.

"Huh," was all Picasso could say. That one word pretty much summed up Jackson's own thoughts.

"Maybe having her around won't be so bad," he commented.

Picasso looked like he was going to agree, but quickly turned offended instead. "What, do you think I can't pick up girls by myself?" he accused. Jackson placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"That's exactly what I think," he confirmed.

Picasso shook off Jackson's hand and shouldered his way forward. "Come on, buddy," he said, glancing back. "We may be done with school, but it looks like we've still got some learning to do." He jogged away after the two girls, waving for them to slow down.

Jackson shook his head, smiling. An image of Jenny flashed across his mind for a brief moment; she used to stick up for him when the neighbor kids started acting up. For once the memory didn't pain him. He felt his eyes misting over, but he was still smiling.

Maybe this journey was going to do him some good.

Shaking away the thought, Jackson shouldered his pack and took off after his friends.

Maybe it would be good, indeed.

* * *

**I think I've decided to set this story up in a series of "arcs." In the past I've struggled with having a gigantic world view, but always taking forever to get to the action. Each arc of **_**Flames and Shadows **_**will probably be around five chapters long (hopefully), so you can expect some stuff to go down real soon. ;)**

**Catch ya in the next one!**

**~Shadow **


	3. Chapter 3

**For some reason I've been having a terrible time with hot-air balloons lately. Hallucinations, fever dreams—you name it. I don't know if it has anything to do with this giant 2,000-piece puzzle I put together with the fam over break, or if it's simply my childhood trauma with Team Rocket finally being realized.**

**Probably the latter.**

**Definitely the latter.**

* * *

"Urrggghh," Max groaned, leaning forward and holding her head up with both of her hands. She rocked back and forth absentmindedly from her spot on the rocky ground, tucking her legs up closer to her body. She felt… well, she wasn't sure exactly what it was she felt. And she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.

She was always a distant girl, preferring to think to herself over talking to others. But lately she was more distracted than usual. It was hard to think coherently when all she could hear was the drowning sound of her heart beating harder and faster. She couldn't even space off properly anymore.

It sucked.

She let out a defeated sigh and leaned back onto the ground, sprawling her arms out on the rough surface. It wasn't the most comfortable spot to rest, but she preferred to lay here compared to down by the riverbank where the others were lounging about. Or so she told herself, anyway.

Max just wanted to block out the world for a few minutes and recompose herself, but there were simply too many distractions out here in the middle of nowhere. _How ironic_, she thought wryly, rolling her eyes. She tried to cover her ears and block out the sun at the same time, but to no avail. After experimenting with several different arm positions she finally gave up and used both hands to shield her eyes while massaging her temples. She'd just have to deal with the incessant chatter of her sister and her friends for the time being.

"Bet I can beat you across the river!" came a distant voice, echoing up from the banks below. Max smirked. There was no way that any of the older kids would risk soaking their clothes just to win a bet over a swimming race. She let herself relax as the air grew silent again. It only lasted about a second before two faint splashes sounded from below.

_I can't believe they're actually going through with it_, Max thought with mild surprise. _I didn't think they'd want to get their clothes wet_—

Max shot up suddenly, then immediately blushed a violent shade of red as she realized what propelled her to move so abruptly. Her heart raced faster than a Sceptile, and she curled up into a ball once more, rocking from side to side in a mix of emotions.

"Aha!" Max heard from across the river. She dared a glimpse from between her fingers; it appeared that Picasso had won the little swimming competition. It only figured. The tall, broad boy was a natural athlete. Seeing him shirtless, even from across the small river, Max had to admit that he was a fairly attractive guy.

She didn't dote on that thought for too long, though. The big jolly fellow wasn't exactly her type. Although, to be fair, she wasn't really sure what _was_ her type.

Jackson's head bobbed above the surface at the far end of the river. As he scrambled up onto the bank, Picasso gave him a friendly slap on the back. The blow sent the smaller boy reeling back into the water. Picasso, in an effort to catch his friend before he went over, ended up flailing over the edge directly on top of Jackson.

Max smiled and shook her head. She might not be exactly certain what kind of person was her type…

But it certainly wasn't _that_.

"Hey Maxie!"

Her sister's voice put an end to Max's conflicted thinking.

"I made some honeyed ham sandwiches if you're interested. We'd better eat our share before the guys get back and wolf them all down."

Max stretched out one last time on her rocky perch, feeling her hardened muscles loosen up a bit. It still surprised her how much travelling by foot wore down on her young body. She wasn't the most athletic girl in the world, but she generally considered herself fit.

_Oh well_. She brushed the thought aside. Smacking the sides of her face lightly to snap herself awake, Max jumped to her feet. "Be right there, sis!"

Two fluid leaps brought Max to the edge of the rocky outcrop. As she crouched down, preparing to lower herself to the shelf below her, a massive rumble broke through the otherwise still air. Max yelped in surprise, skidding down to the next ridge amidst a shower of dust and pebbles. Regaining her footing, she spun around and looked up at the rocky shelf above. She sighed a breath of relief when she realized that the rumble she'd heard wasn't a result of the cliff caving in. _Then where did that noise come from?_

Max started when another violent boom sounded overhead. She once again snapped her head toward the sky, only to feel the patter of fat raindrops splashing over her face.

"Seriously…?" she grumbled, hurrying down the last few ledges of the rock formation. When she landed on level ground, she took up a brisk jog to meet Catherine, who was by now tucking the freshly-made food back into her pack. She didn't look much happier than Max felt.

"Pretty good timing, huh Maxie? I can't believe it just picked up out of nowhere like this."

"I guess Lucy's having a bad day," Max jested dryly. Her response was met with a puzzled glance from her older sister. "Look," Max pointed upwards. "The sun's still out. It's devil's rain."

Catherine squinted as she looked up at the sky, which was indeed a clear shade of blue behind the deluge of droplets coming down. The water running off her head was making her long hair start to curl. Max snickered out loud.

"Come on, Cat," she said, slinging her own pack over her shoulder and giving the boys' bags to her sister. "We'd better find a place to wait this out before you evolve into a Wooloo."

Catherine whipped her damp hair around at the younger girl before jogging off toward a small grove of trees. Max avoided the attack before bounding over to grab Jackson's and Picasso's once-dry tee shirts. They were wet enough by now that the two boys might as well have worn them during their swim.

Max scooped up the soaked clothes, and immediately felt her heart pounding again. The drumming in her breast seemed even louder than the rain that kept surging down in heavy droplets. She groaned, holding the sopping bundle at arm's length to avoid getting any wetter than she already was.

Another clap of thunder distracted Max from her troubles. The sky was finally beginning to darken. She quickened her pace, following the path her sister took towards what would hopefully be a dry place to shelter. As she hurried along, her mind wandered back to the other half of the group.

Max hoped the boys were able to find some place dry on the far side of the river. By now the water was tipped with white foam, a testimony to the power of the current sweeping below. She felt nauseous as she looked down at the swollen river. _Surely they were smart enough to wait out the storm before trying to swim back across?_ Max's heart ached, and she wished it would stop.

"Sis, over here!"

Max barely heard her sister's voice over the noise of the storm. Squinting through the rain, she could just make out a pair of arms waving her over. She ran towards them, weaving between rocks and ferns, until she was standing under a tight cluster of trees that shielded most of the water from coming down.

"I hung the bags from the branches up there." Catherine pointed to several sturdy-looking branches that jutted from the outsides of some of the tree trunks. They seemed safe enough from the rain, tucked in close to the center mass, so Max followed suit with her own pack. She draped the wet tee shirts over a couple of smaller branches below. When she was satisfied with the arrangement, she squeezed inside the tight-knit hollow beside her sister.

"Egghh," Max sighed, relieved to be rid of the pounding water overhead. She pulled several pins out of her hair and flipped it forward, head down, to let some of the wetness seep its way out. Taking a deep breath, she tried to let herself relax a little. But she couldn't help worrying…

"Do you think the guys are alright?" she asked quietly, as if the sound of her voice would disturb their temporary haven underneath the trees.

"I'm sure they're fine," Catherine replied. "They may come off as rather dumb, but they can handle themselves. Don't worry."

Max's sister didn't sound worried at all. That made the younger girl feel a little better. _Cat _has_ known them a lot longer than I have_.

"Although," Catherine relented, they are half-naked right now, so I doubt they're doing quite as well as we are."

Max, currently wringing the last of the water from her hair, bit her lip nervously. She knew her sister was joking, but she couldn't help feeling bothered by the predicament of their companions. "Do you think they were able to find somewhere warm to wait out the storm?"

"I saw them heading towards some trees on their side of the river. They might not find as good of a shelter as this, but they should be well enough until this thing blows over."

Max felt herself decompress a little. Catherine was right; she was making a Gigalith out of a Diglett hill.

"Although…" the older girl continued, her voice sounding slightly more grim. Max whipped her head up in anticipation. "I might have seen some strange… _thing_… at the edge of the forest where they were heading. It was probably just an illusion from the wind and the rain; I mean, it was all the way across the river. But still…"

"But still _what?_"Max didn't think she could take one more second of this emotional roller coaster. She wasn't even sure why she was on such a nerve-wracking ride; all she knew was that she wanted _off_.

It was Catherine's turn to look nervous now. She clutched her hands to her chest, rubbing her thumbs against one another in alternating patterns. "Well," she started, "it's just that I could have _sworn _I saw some sort of shadowy figure crawling along the riverbank. And the way the bushes moved… it just didn't look natural."

Max took a deep breath. "Okay. So there _might_ be _something_ over on that side of the river. But it's all just hypothetical, right?" she asked, hoping for an answer that would reassure herself just as much as Catherine.

"Right," the older girl nodded, slowly lowering her hands. "And besides, why does this hypothetical _thing_ have to be dangerous? It's probably just looking for shelter from the rain, just like the rest of us. Yeah," she nodded, starting to relax again. "What are we getting so worked up about? _You_," she accused, giving Max a playful shove, "are just trying to scare me. Aren't you?"

_I wish that were the case_, Max thought grimly, though she could already feel her own nerves beginning to settle down as well.

"I would never," she retaliated instead, butting her sister teasingly in the shoulder with her damp head. The two girls exchanged several mock blows before sliding down the base of one of the trees to sit on the leaf-littered ground.

Catherine closed her eyes and let out a short sigh. "All the same, I'd feel better if we were still in one group. And we'd be a lot safer if we had any Pokemon with us. It's too bad none of us have one yet."

Max leaned over to rest her head on Catherine's lap, taking one of her sister's hands in both of her own and draping it comfortingly over her chest.

_As far as you know_, she thought to herself as she let her eyes slide shut. All she voiced aloud was a soft grunt of agreement before she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

** As you may have noticed, I've decided to give the perspectives of Jackson **_**and **_**Max in this story. I'll do my best to alternate them throughout the chapters, but no promises. Sometimes one character needs more time and attention than another. Sometimes they just need to get something off their chest. Sometimes they just really have a lot going on and can't spare any time focusing on somebody else. "It's okay to make time for yourself," they keep telling themselves. "Just leave me alone so I can figure some things out, okay? You don't have to keep pressuring me all the time! I'm a full-grown individual and I know what's bes—"**

** …I mean, **_**the characters**_** know what's best… For **_**them**_**. And the **_**characters**_** sometimes need more attention. And sometimes the characters just need to be left alone.**

** *cough***

** The characters. Yes.**

** ~Shadow**


	4. Chapter 4

**What is love?**

…

**.**

**..**

**If anybody just said "baby don't hurt me" to themselves, I am thoroughly disappointed.**

* * *

"Really?" Jackson heard his usually optimistic friend mutter. "Come on, man, let's find a spot to wait this out."

Picasso was already running along the riverbank, apparently anxious to find refuge from the sudden rain shower. _I guess he's really not a fan of storms_, Jackson thought, chuckling to himself. Thinking back, he could remember a handful of times when Picasso had cancelled plans because of bad weather.

"Hey Jackson, give me a hand would ya?"

Jackson pulled away from the river and cut into the sparse forest, following Picasso's voice. He looked back over his shoulder anxiously as he approached the trees. The river already looked like an angry Gyarados, and it hadn't even been raining for very long. He swallowed heavily.

An odd scraping sound made Jackson look ahead of him once more. Through the trees and the rain, he could see Picasso shouldering a fallen log, trying to prop it up against a wide, jagged stump. For a moment Jackson wondered if the bulky lad had ripped the tree straight from the ground. Looking around, though, he noticed that there was a good number of felled trees scattered around this already thin forest.

Picasso dropped one end of his log on top of the stump. "I was thinking we could stack some more of these up along this one," he said, gesturing at the plethora of logs around them. "There's a big knot at the bottom here that should hold the roof in place. It won't be the most spacious cabin in the world, but it'll keep us dry at the very least."

"Fair enough." Jackson rather admired his friend's quick-thinking. To be honest, he himself would have been happy just standing out in the rain. They were already sopping wet from their swim, so it wasn't like they needed to keep dry or anything. But he knew Picasso wanted to get out of the storm, so he helped carry a few fallen logs over to their makeshift lean-to.

It only took a few minutes for the boys to finish their small shelter. Ducking inside, they worked on wringing water out of their heavy clothes. Before long there was a decent-sized puddle near the edge of their otherwise dry haven.

"You know, the only reason you won that swimming race is because you're wearing shorts," Jackson complained, squeezing the last few drops of water from his own heavy blue jeans. "Do you know how hard it is to swim in jeans?"

Picasso grinned. "Oh believe me, I do. I figured I was pretty safe making that bet; either you'd be swimming in jeans or you'd have to take them off and give me a head start." He tapped his head smartly. "You know, I'm sure a certain someone wouldn't have minded helping you with that—"

Jackson pushed his friend's head aside before he could elaborate. He had to admit, though, he was looking forward to travelling with a pair of attractive girls. Cat, of course, was too close of a friend already; but Maxine…

He immediately shook away the thought, scolding himself for almost going there. One, the younger girl was one of his best friend's sister. Two, they would be travelling together for the foreseeable future; if things got weird, they would be weird for a long time.

And three…

Jackson didn't want to think about his sister right now.

He leaned back, studying the logs they had used for the lean-to. "Isn't it weird that there's so many fallen trees out here?" he asked. "I mean, we're sort of in the middle of nowhere. It's not like anybody really leaves Central City; and if they did, why would they hack down all these trees?"

Picasso leaned back himself, stretching to run his hands along the base of the logs. "I don't think a human chopped these trees down. Look," he said, pointing to the jagged tips. Jackson looked closer, squinting in the growing darkness, to see what it was his friend was pointing out.

"Teeth marks?" Jackson asked surprisedly. Picasso nodded confirmation, chipping off little pieces of the wood with his fingertips. "Does that mean some kind of Pokemon did all this?"

"Probably. Maybe it was training, or maybe it was trying to make a shelter like us."

Jackson froze as a thought crossed him. A blast of thunder nearly made him crack his head on the low ceiling. He gulped. "So, in other words, there's either a really powerful Pokemon lurking around these woods…"

"Or," Picasso continued, picking up Jackson's train of thought, "we just stole somebody's building materials. Neither scenario seems like it would bode well for us, huh?"

Both boys went quiet for a few seconds. The rain continued to drum down, knocking on the wooden structure like a neighbor with a noise complaint. Jackson noticed Picasso's face looking exceptionally pale. Clearly his stoic, adventurous friend had some personal issues when it came to storms.

A distant rustling interrupted the pattern of rain, alerting both boys simultaneously. Picasso looked like he'd just seen a ghost-type Pokemon.

"Th-th-" he stammered, not daring to move. "Just th- wind, yeah?"

Jackson was inclined to agree; until more rustling noises sounded from what seemed like all around them.

"No offense to your building design," Jackson said, rolling to his knees under the low roof, "but I don't think it's going to protect us from whatever's out there." He hoped he sounded calmer than he felt. "Come on," he said, pulling his friend outside, "let's find somewhere a little safer."

No sooner had the two boys stood up outside of the lean-to, than the rustling seemed to peak in loudness. Without further warning, several shadowy figures began streaming from the undergrowth around them, advancing quickly.

"Come on!" Jackson repeated, shouting over the sound of the storm. He had to put nearly all his strength into one desperate tug that finally prompted Picasso to move under his own power. _If only we had caught a Pokemon by now_, Jackson thought grimly, feeling the small round object in his front pocket. An empty pokeball. It might as well have been a rock.

The pokeball was old—probably as old as he was. The red and white casing was scuffed and scratched, nothing like the smooth metallic texture of a brand new ball. The roughness was accented by a dull charred color that was permanently burned into the metal itself.

It was the one relic that Jackson was able to save from his childhood home.

"Rover!"

Jenny's terrified scream echoed in Jackson's memory.

"_Houu!"_ the Pokemon howled in reply. The crackling timbers all but swallowed up the Houndour's fierce cry. Smoke and fire filled the air, simultaneously lighting and darkening the horrific scene before Jackson's eyes. He tried to cough, but couldn't manage to inhale enough clean air to fill his lungs. He choked instead.

"Rover, return!" Jenny cried out, trying desperately to locate her Pokemon with the red beam of the capture device. It was useless.

The young dog Pokemon was on the opposite side of the house, dragging the barely conscious body of Jackson into a room that was slightly more clear of toxic air. Jackson sputtered as the Houndour laid him down gently and nosed him underneath a stone end table. It was warm but the air was clean, and the sturdy table shielded him from falling debris. He coughed violently, spraying dark flecks of blood onto the floor.

At least he could breathe again.

"Ahhh!"

Jenny's shrill scream was followed immediately by a thunderous crash. Cinders sprayed through the first floor of the deteriorating house.

"Rover, get inside!"

A metallic _thud_ sounded from across the room, and a battered pokeball rolled shakily towards Jackson's hiding place. Jackson stretched forward, terrified of leaving his newly-found sanctuary. Reaching out with one arm, he strained toward the ball. Another explosion sounded from above.

Jackson couldn't find his voice to scream. Bracing one foot against the leg of the end table, he used the other to shove the smoldering floorboard off of his hand, which now grasped the small red pokeball in an iron grip. Houndour helped to throw the board aside with a thrust of his snout.

Through eyes clouded by tears, Jackson inspected his shaking arm. He could see red splotches on his hand and wrist but couldn't tell if they were burns or blood. Houndour took a couple of paces toward the young boy and licked his wound supportively.

Jackson lurched backward, not from pain but out of surprise. He felt something dripping down his forehead where Rover's nose had brushed against his face. Blinking away his tears, he saw the small Pokemon's face more clearly. Blood oozed down his muzzle from a gash on the top of his nose.

"Rover, _please!_" Jackson heard his sister call out in anguish. He looked at the damaged pokeball clenched within his injured hand. Then he looked back up at the young hound Pokemon in front of him. Its eyes were painfully red, and its breath was coming in ragged, irregular gasps. Even a fire-type Pokemon couldn't withstand this hellscape.

Jackson turned the pokeball around in his hand, trying to locate the button with unfeeling fingers. Rover let out a low growl.

Jackson looked up, gazing distressingly into the Pokemon's eyes. He was torn. Houndour might be able to help Jenny escape this inevitable destruction, but odds were he would get hurt even worse than either of the children already were. They didn't need another tragedy on this day. Besides, Jenny wanted her Pokemon safe inside its ball…

"I'm sorry, buddy," Jackson whispered hoarsely, holding the pokeball out in front of him. "But please, you have to get inside—"

"_Dour!"_ the Pokemon barked, leaping to the side as the ball emitted a flash of red. A heartbeat later, the small dark shape leaped through the tower of flames toward the room where Jenny was still trapped.

"Rover…" Jackson whispered faintly, clutching the pokeball to his chest before slipping into a state of semi-consciousness.

Jackson wiped both sweat and water from his brow as he patted the small sphere in his pocket. He shook his head to tear himself away from the horrific memory, adding a light mist of droplets to the heavy downpour thumping to the forest floor.

Recovering from his traumatic episode, Jackson noticed that Picasso had gotten several paces ahead of him. Looking back, he got a better glimpse of their pursuers, who were steadily keeping pace about fifty meters behind them.

The shadowy figures were relatively small compared to the two boys—creatures or Pokemon of some sort. But that fact didn't make them any less terrifying. Some of them were hurtling forward on all fours while other, larger, ones were tramping through the undergrowth on just two feet. Jackson hastily counted over a dozen of the mysterious creatures before focusing all of his attention on catching up to Picasso.

Despite all his efforts, Jackson couldn't seem to gain an inch on his athletic friend. If anything, the taller boy was still pulling gradually ahead. Jackson desperately wished he would slow down to match his own shorter strides.

They had only been running for a handful of seconds, but it already felt like hours. Jackson wasn't even sure which direction they were heading anymore. He didn't really care so long as it was away from the menacing creatures in pursuit.

As the two boys continued racing through the storm, something dawned on Jackson. He concentrated desperately for a moment before realizing that the rustling noises weren't only coming from behind them, but from both sides as well. With a sudden jolt of horror, he realized that they weren't just being chased: they were being herded. And their pursuers were funneling them straight towards…

"Picasso, _stop!_"

But it was too late. The other boy, nonsensical by terror, was already bracing himself to plunge into the river.

The swollen, raging river.

"Nooo!" Jackson yelled after his friend, who barely broke stride as he leaped out into the frothy current. Jackson skidded to a stop, nearly sliding over the edge of the bank himself. With one look back at the creatures behind him, he prepared to dive in after his friend.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. Something that made the situation even more horrifying than it already was. A couple dozen meters downriver, the shadowy figures were sliding down the bank and into the water.

They could swim.

The water wasn't going to save them after all, Jackson realized with a moment's clarity. Snapping his attention back to the river, he could just see Picasso's head and shoulders breaking through the surface of the black water. Despite the raging current, the strong boy was handling himself quite remarkably. He was still being pulled further downriver by the second, though, and would be out of sight in a matter of moments.

Jackson knew what he had to do.

Summoning his courage, Jackson braced himself as best he could on the smooth, wet rock. Then, in an instant, he broke into a dead sprint, heading straight towards the dark creatures as they continued to file into the river. As he made his way along the edge of the riverbank, an excited chattering picked up from somewhere behind him. At nearly the same time the creatures moving in towards the water froze, and a couple of the bigger ones stood back on their hind legs. They were now well over a meter tall, and twice as intimidating.

Jackson closed his eyes as he leapt, praying that he would make it over the ominous creatures and out of their clutches. As he soared over the wall of shadows, he opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of the creatures below him. They were dark brown with thick, curly fur and beady, menacing eyes. He thought the Pokemon looked familiar, but couldn't place the name amidst all the chaos and adrenaline.

As he came down to meet the rocky ground, he thought his prayers were going to be answered. But at the last second, one of the larger Pokemon flashed its wide, flat tail into the air, just barely catching Jackson's feet on his way down. The blow sent him flying off balance, and the ground came up to meet him faster than he expected.

"Aghck!" Jackson sputtered, spitting slimy dirt out of his mouth. The action caused his entire face to flare up in pain. "Mmmmm," he moaned through clenched lips. He stood up, and a wave of dizziness sent him back to the ground.

_I've got to follow Picasso_, he reminded himself, hoping to unlock some sort of hidden strength. As soon as the thought entered his mind he caught a glimpse of his friend, still working fiercely through the roiling river. _Maybe he'll actually be alright…_

Jackson tried standing once more. He succeeded in rising to his feet, albeit rather shakily, but as soon as he tried to take a step downriver a solid _whack_ to his ankles brought him crashing to the ground. The back of his head crunched heavily against the solid rock of the riverbank, and before he blacked out he felt himself sliding down toward the dark water below.

* * *

**It's weird and strange and silly that pop culture ruins our ability to answer some of life's most pressing questions. You can be completely serious and sincere but no matter how many times you ask somebody what a meme jellyfish is you just keep getting laughter and dumb comments about dancing pineapples in response. And you can't even voice a genuine question about wizards anymore. Don't even think about it. It doesn't matter if you're curious about the number of toes one must consume per capita in order to become the town's magic user. As soon as you say "wiz—" you're gonna get cut off. You won't get any further than that. Your question ends there. You shall not pass.**

** Sorry for the rant. I'm done now.**

** …**

** .**

** ..**

** If anybody has the answer to the previous question concerning wizardry kindly let me know thanks asking for a friend.**

** ~Shadow**


End file.
